


Kings and Crowns

by Sapphy, SapphyWatchesYouSleep (Sapphy)



Series: Unbalanced 'verse [7]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Dark Stiles, Domestic, Fluff, Future Fic, Home, Home Improvement, M/M, Nesting, Psychopaths In Love, Stiles and Peter build a house, and choose curtains, i'm not even joking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-12
Updated: 2013-08-12
Packaged: 2017-12-23 05:20:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/922480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sapphy/pseuds/Sapphy, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sapphy/pseuds/SapphyWatchesYouSleep
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Ivy cottage,” Stiles says one evening. He’d been out to pick some rosemary from the pot he keeps by the front door, and looking up at the house it had come to him.</p>
<p>“That sounds like a English tea room,” Peter says mildly from behind his book.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kings and Crowns

**Author's Note:**

> Yet more fluff. Something about these two just makes me want pick them up and wrap them in cotton wool.
> 
> I've been thinking maybe I should make all these little domestic future fics into one fic rather than posting them separately. There's a lot of short fics in this 'verse now. On the other hand I don't want to loose all the comments and kudos I've gotten so far... What do you guys think? Do think they'd be better as chapters of an overall fic? Do you even like these fics or do you wish I'd just get back to bb!Stiles and stop with all the fluff?

_On my velvet couch reclining,_

_Ivy leaves my brow entwining,_

_While my soul expands with glee,_

_What are kings and crowns to me?_

Thomas Moore, Odes of Anacreon

 

 

 

The first time Stiles sees the cottage is when he’s out on a run around the preserve, taking the rare opportunity to exercise without any werewolves there to make him feel inadequate. It’s a wreck, brambles and ivy and what looks like a clematis gone feral covering nearly all the brickwork, and the roof has more holes than it does tiles, but there’s something about it that appeals to Stiles, something peaceful and welcoming in its atmosphere than makes it stick in his mind.

He asks Derek about it, not wanting to bring it up with Peter just yet, and Derek says that it’s been abandoned all his life time, but that he thinks maybe it used to belong to the Hale pack’s emissary, generations ago, and that he thinks that he technically owns it.He keeps thinking about it, keeps turning the idea of it over and over in his mind. Currently his things are split between his dad’s house and Peter’s flat. He’s never really managed to make that final step and actually move in with Peter, even though they’ve been together for two years now. He’s still only nineteen, and it feels like such a huge step. But this, the idea of him and Peter making somewhere for themselves, starting afresh somewhere new, that feels easier, even though he knows rationally it’s a bigger step. It feels like the right thing to do.

He gets Isaac to take a look at it, give him an opinion on how sound the structure is (Isaac’s been doing building work in the holidays to pay for college). Isaac says he thinks what’s standing is gonna stay standing, that they could repair it rather than having to pull it down and rebuild, and that feels like a sign, like this is something that’s meant to be.

Peter looks a little horrified by the idea of renovation work, but he likes the idea of them having somewhere that’s all their own, especially somewhere out in the preserve where he won’t be constantly woken up by noisy neighbours, and won’t have to wash bloodstained clothes in the Laundromat. (Stiles knows for a fact that the guy who runs the Laundromat thinks Peter’s a serial killer, has reported him to the Sheriff at least twice).

When Stiles points out that they could be as loud as they want out there, leave their scent over everything and no one would complain about any suspicious bloodstains, Peter agrees that it might actually be a brilliant idea. They celebrate the decision by having the loudest sex they can, and are reward with banging on the walls from next door and on the ceiling from the flat above. Stiles feels a little bit bad about that, because he knows the people above have kids, but mostly he just feels elated, because he and Peter are getting a house, together, and that’s yet more proof that Peter is just as weirdly obsessively in love with him as he is with Peter, and that’s totally awesome. Plus he’s a little bit excited about getting to choose furniture. But only a little bit. Honest.

Peter has enough put by that they can afford to have proper builders in to work on the house, which is excellent, because Stiles has been having nightmares about Derek and Scott doing the work, and the whole house spontaneously combusting the first night he and Peter actually sleep there.

The building work itself is kinda boring, although it’s fun going out and seeing how much progress is being made. They find a salvage yard online that sells old bricks, so you can hardly see which bits are repair work and which bits original, and it’s kind of like watching a demolition in reverse, the house slowing growing back into a whole building.

Stiles and Peter have an epic fight over window frames, and another over under-floor heating, both of which end up requiring intervention from one of the packs to solve. (Allison backs Stiles’ choice of super-expensive awesome handmade wooden windows, and Derek just stands there and glares at them until they come to an agreement about under-floor heating out of sheer exasperation. They don’t get any. Peter promises to rub Stiles’ feet for him whenever they get cold.)

Their third anniversary comes and goes, and Derek presents them with a deed for the house, probably forged since all the Hale’s paperwork was burned up years ago, but thoughtful of him nonetheless. They celebrate with Stiles haring through the woods, Peter’s howls chasing him as his strips off his clothes, and then fucking on the bare concrete of what’s going to be their kitchen floor.

Nine months after Stiles first finds the house, they go furniture shopping. They’ve been collecting odds and ends when they can for months, but the house is close enough to finished for them choose things like a mattress and a microwave. Stiles feels ridiculous, like everyone in the shop is looking at him, laughing at the little kid playing house, but Peter distracts him by lounging obscenely on the show beds and talking loudly about what a great sex life they have in front of the shop assistants.

Stiles takes Allison with him to choose colours for the walls, because Peter hates the smell of paint, and anyway Stiles has always admired Allison’s understated sense of style. They decide to leave the plasterwork plain white in the kitchen and living room, but Stiles picks out a soft heather colour for the bathroom and a deep faded red for the bedroom. Allison says she doesn’t think it will be very restful, but Stiles knows Peter will love it.

Between them they’ve got towels and bed linens, but Stiles can’t resist buying a blanket for the bed patterned with vividly red elephants. Allison smiles and tells him he’s nest building and uses her dad’s credit card to pay for a big brass framed mirror Stiles has fallen in love with.

He shows Peter his finds when he gets him, ridiculously proud and excited, and Peter gets this look in his eye like he can’t decide whether to shove Stiles down and ravish him or wrap him up in blankets and feed him chocolate pudding, and Stiles fells warm and contented, like he does when Scott tells him they’re brothers, and it’s amazing. He loves Peter’s passion, is a big fan of the physicality of their relationship, but he’s never really had much of a chance to just be domestic with Peter and he thinks maybe he might like it.

They finally move in two weeks before Christmas, which is cliché as hell, but Stiles has been secretly stockpiling decorations and he’s determined to use them. The rooms seem empty, still a lot of furniture they need to buy, and without the lifetime’s accumulation of knick-knacks Stiles associates with a home, but it’s a welcoming house, and Stiles gets the feeling that it’s pleased to have them there.

He and Peter have sex in every room of the house. Since there are only four of them, they go round twice, and make it once in the little stone barn outside as well. Peter rubs their combined blood and come into the door lintel, which Stiles thinks is equal parts adorable and disgusting, and Stiles carefully carves runes for good luck and protection into the same spot, each marking their territory in their own way.

Derek and Isaac appear one day with a tree they’ve cut from the preserve, big enough that it barely fits though the door, and the gold and white angel Stiles had bought for the top because it reminded him of the one his Gran always had has an unfortunate run in with the ceiling that results in her head hanging half off, but Peter laughs so hard he can barely speak so Stiles leaves it like that. It seems kind of fitting anyway, that they should have a cheerfully decapitated angel on their Christmas tree. It looks even more fitting when Stiles comes down one morning to find Peter has carefully hung Stiles’ knife collection in amongst the baubles.

Everyone gives them things for the house for Christmas, even Derek who is grudging about presents at the best of times. Stiles’ dad comes for dinner and gives them the armchair that had been Stiles’ mom’s favourite, the one he used to curl up in when he was little because it always smelled faintly of her perfume. Stiles cries, and his dad says how proud his mom would have been, how proud he is, and he cries as well, and Peter hides in the kitchen drinking Stiles’ experimental raspberry and wolfsbane gin until they stop. They eat venison, because Peter refuses to eat turkey, insisting that if everyone stops buying it, people will stop breeding them and then maybe they’ll finally go extinct. After a lot of wheedling and some more gin the Sheriff manages to get him to admit that the reason he hates them so much is because he’d been attacked by one when he was a child. John laughs so hard he drops a forkful of mashed potato into his wine.

By March the house feels properly like home, every nook and cranny filled with their things, pictures of the pack on the walls and the downstairs smelling comfortingly of cooking and herbs.

“Ivy cottage,” Stiles says one evening. He’d been out to pick some rosemary from the pot he keeps by the front door, and looking up at the house it had come to him.

“That sounds like a English tea room,” Peter says mildly from behind his book. “Why?”

“Well because this is a cottage, and it was covered in ivy when I found it,” Stiles says. “But also because ivy is poisonous, insidious and very hard to kill, just like us!”

Peter laughs. “Ivy cottage,” he agrees. “Just promise me you’re not going to get a pokerwork plaque with the name on it.”

Stiles makes a mental note to get one as soon as possible.

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked this, check out the rest of this series. Please comment, even if it's only two words, and please leave kudos if you liked it. Your response is what makes writing these things great.
> 
> Also you can find me on tumblr at gluttonforpunsihment (fic recs) or lentilswitheverything (general fandom reblogging)


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